‘Supine Horizons’ invites you to take a nap

Before I enter Philadelphia Contemporary’s newest show, curator Nicole Pollard asks how I would like to be awakened. Supine Horizons is an immersive installation for rest and in the first few weeks the docents have learned that falling asleep is a likely reflex. “A gentle tap,” I tell Pollard as I walk onto the plushest carpet I’ve ever felt.

Located in the Black-owned performance space Kinesics Dance Dynamics Theatre in Germantown, “Supine Horizons” encourages extraordinary relaxation, promotes collective healing, and proposes rest as a method of political resistance. It builds from the activism put forth by the likes of Tricia Hersey (the brains behind Nap Ministry) and her book Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto, and Octavia Raheem, the rest coach who wrote Pause, Rest, Be. The installation pushes back, softly and powerfully, against capitalist structures that equate value with productivity and urgency. The docents report that visitors emerge looking transported, and often use just long, satisfied sighs to describe their experience.

It’s bewildering for people to enter a space that neither costs anything nor asks anything of them, said Gralin Hughes Jr., the Philadelphia multimedia artist who designed the atmosphere for Supine Horizons.

“There’s something jarring for people who are like, ‘Oh, I don’t do anything? Nothing’s gonna happen?’,” Hughes said. It’s also rare that something unusual is also so soothing. Pollard’s favorite description, from a visitor after hearing the invitation to relax in the space, was the summary: “‘Oh, so it’s just chilling.’” Pollard nodded enthusiastically and wished they’d had signs made that read: “Just Chilling.”

The tucked-away space feels like a flickering cave, awash in dark purple shadows that enliven visitors’ instinct to burrow. The designers of Supine Horizons prioritized softness, creating the sensation of floating away from gravity and with “zero-gravity Moon Pod” bean bags, which are planted along the carpet. Projections drip and spill across the walls and soft couches, like rain on a windshield.

Many visitors have taken a quick nap. Others use the space to meditate. Everyone gets cozy. Return visits are booked through mid-December, when the show closes.

During its two-month run, Supine Horizons offers hour-long slots for visitors to experience the installation. It also serves as the site for a series of activations and events. They’ll host weekly yoga classes, regular acupuncture, poetry readings, and ambient music performances. Octavia Raheem, who will lead a rest workshop on Dec. 9, praises the show as “a needed and protected space for people to rest, imagine, and be.”

Hughes said he did not want to grab focus with this project. “Everything is designed to let you check out versus drawing your attention constantly.” His visual and audio compositions are ambient and organic, using a modular synthesizer to compose an ever-evolving score. The samples come from Hughes’ library of collected sounds, including ocean crashes, sound bowls, and biorhythms from plants.

While imagining the space as a site of restoration, Hughes kept thinking about his family, especially his late grandmother. “What would her life have been like if she had the message that it’s OK to take a break?” Hughes says that he sees everyone face the pressure to keep moving forward and hustle, and for him, “there’s that added layer of just being Black.” The space, he said, could have been an invitation for his grandmother to heal. “It imagines a world where you can rest and there’s no expectation. I want it for everybody.”

When people emerge from Supine Horizons, there’s a shift. Pollard described “extreme calm” expressions on visitors’ faces and soft wonderment: “Just like, ‘Wow, what did I just experience?’” On my second visit, I saw someone placing their hand over their heart, in a gesture of nonverbal gratitude.

There’s also an instinct to share the space with friends and family. A few visitors have requested private events for hyper-relaxed company bonding.

This social aspect of the installation is heartening. This space, Hughes said, suggests that “rest is not something you have to experience alone. You can do it with other people, you can do it in community. You can do it with people you don’t even know: You have this experience together.”

“Supine Horizons” runs through Dec. 20 at Kinesics Dance Dynamics (KDD) Theatre, 5427 Germantown Ave, Philadelphia. To reserve a spot, visit: https://philadelphiacontemporary.org/projects/supine-horizons